


blood in the cut

by sanidine



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, Consensual Violence, F/M, Femdom, Kayfabe Compliant, Off-Screen Kink Negotiation, Pain, bootlicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanidine/pseuds/sanidine
Summary: “Don't worry about hurtin' me.” Dean tried again. “You can -”“Oh!” Alexa laughed a little bit, sounding genuinely bemused. “Trust me. I'm not worried about it.”





	blood in the cut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphoIsBurning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/gifts).



> Extreme Deadline '17 treat for Sapphoisburning, who asked for "Dean Ambrose/Alexa Bliss. This is my favorite het crack ship. I would like a story where Dean teaches Alexa about hardcore deathmatch wrestling and she beats the shit out of him with a kendo stick. Maaaybe thumbtacks are involved. I'm fine with consensual violence of many kinds."
> 
> This is less 'teaches' and more just 'beats the shit out of him' though :)

“So.” Dean said, slouching with his shoulders against the dressing room mirror.

“Don't touch that.” Alexa didn't even bother to look up from where she was painting her fingernails

“Huh?”

“The mirror.” She dipped his brush in the little pot of nail polish, tabbed it against the neck of the bottle so there wouldn't be any excess drips “You're gonna get it all greasy.”

Dean wiggled back and forth, smudging his sweaty back against the smooth surface. He had just come back from a run, and the endorphins that were still buzzing in his blood made it easy for him to say what he was thinking.

“I've got some time off comin’ up.”

“Great. Good for you.” Alexa still wasn't looking at him, but he could hear the way that she rolled her eyes. “Why do I care?”

“Well, I was just thinkin’. Since I'm not gonna have to worry about lookin’ pretty for the cameras for a while...”

Alexa slowly put the brush back in the bottle, screwed it back on one handed as Dean tapped his foot. Then she finally deigned to look up at him, her eyes keen and interested, and Dean felt all of the air go out of his lungs.

\----

They had the gym and the training ring to themselves, after hours. Alexa didn't know if Dean had called in a favor or just picked the lock before she had shown up.

Dean was sitting on the apron and wrapping his hands as she changed, stripping off her street clothes and pulling on her workout gear and boots right there by the ring, not an ounce of modesty anywhere to be found. Alexa pulled her hair back and hopped up over the ropes, running them a couple of times to get her heart rate up. She was joined a few seconds later by Dean, who had been busy rooting around underneath the ring.

He handed her a kendo stick. Alexa reached out and took it. They were just going to get right down to it, then. Fine by her.

“Gimme your best shot.” Dean said, bringing his hands up to make dual ‘come on’ gestures, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet. “I can take it.”

Alexa hummed under her breath, tested the weight of the kendo stick as she twirled it around in front of her like a color guard rifle. Dean watched her carefully as he leaned back against the ropes. He bounced against them a little, feigning casualness as he stretched his arms out along the top rope like he was leaning back on a couch.

“Don't worry about hurtin' me.” Dean tried again. “You can -”

“Oh!” Alexa laughed a little bit, sounding genuinely bemused. “Trust me. I'm not worried about it.”

Then she took a step forward, wound up and swung the kendo stick at his ribs.

Dean dropped his right arm down to block the blow, and the sharp sound that the stick made when it bounced off of his elbow seemed to echo through the empty gym. Alexa swung back to strike at him again, but she wasn't fast enough - he lashed out and grabbed the stick on instinct, grateful that his handwraps protected him from getting a palmful of splinters. Dean held tight when Alexa tried to yank the kendo stick out of him grip and she snarled in fury when her attempt was denied. Dean grinned back at her, but before he could think of anything witty to say, Alexa used his firm hold on the stick to pull herself forward into his personal space.  

The angle of the stick boxed in the arm that she had hit before, so Dean couldn't reach over to stop her as she got so close to him that their chests were almost touching, hauled back and slapped him across the face with her free hand.

Dean dropped his hold on the stick to reach up and touch the side of his face, where it was already stinging hot and surely going red. Then he had to duck, bringing up his shoulder to protect his head when Alexa stepped back and swung the kendo stick up over her head in a beautiful arc. Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the shards that went flying as the wood cracked and shattered, against a pain so pure and perfect that it buckled his knees.

Alexa snapped the ruined kendo stick across her knee. She tossed one end carelessly over the ropes, held the other half like a club, one handed, as she delivered short, brutal strokes against Dean’s side. Dean was, quite literally, on the ropes as he gasped and twisted to block her, bringing his forearms up to stop the blows until Alexa finally relented. She held the broken stick down by her side, started to take a step back. But she saw the way that Dean braced himself to get up, the way that he pressed his palm down against the mat with his fingers outstretched, and she couldn't resist.

Dean must have seen her intent, because he tried to snatch his hand back. But it was already too late. Alexa stepped forward in a flash, trapped his fingers between the sole of her boot and the mat. Dean took a deep, shaky breath. He looked down at his pinned hand and tried to pull free, but Alexa only leaned more of her weight forward to keep him from escaping. Alexa laughed at his attempt and ground her foot back and forth a little. Not enough to break anything, just enough to so that knew that he remembered his place.

When Dean lifted his head back up to look at Alexa she could _see_ it as his pupils blew wider, could trace the dilation even as she was pretty sure that she could feel her own doing the same thing despite the bright gym lights. She sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, stretching him out between the roots of it and where she was still standing on his hand, the pale column of his neck bared. On his knees, Dean was nothing as Alexa loomed over him.

She cracked him on the face, once, just hard enough to split his lip. Dean hissed at the pain but didn't try to pull away. The blood was bright and immediate, most of it pooling in his parted mouth, but a few drops slid out over the already swelling flesh, down his chin and along his jaw.

“What do you say?” Alexa asked, tapping the end of the broken kendo stick against the side of his face, the loose bits of wood clack, clack, clacking against one another.

“Please.” Dean said, shivered at how rough and ruined his voice sounded. His eyes slipped closed for a second, flickered back open, heavy lidded. “Please, sir.”

Dean knew that he was good for something, then, or at least he was in that moment when Alexa grinned down at him.

Alexa tilted his head back further so that she had a better angle to press the jagged, snapped end of the kendo stick into the sensitive underside of his jaw. She listened as Dean's breath came faster and faster as she drug the cluster of sharp ends down the side of his neck, a painful paintbrush that streaked the blood that had dripped from his mouth across the low hill of his collarbone, leaving even more red in its wake, vivid scratches in a tight wake that burned and burned and _burned_.

Dean didn't realize that Alexa had taken her boot off his fingers until he blinked and saw that she was walking away from him. He pulled his hand back, swaying slightly as he flexed his sore knuckles and watched as she bent over to dig through her gym bag. The sound of his quick heartbeat pounding in his ears was a counterpoint to his dick throbbing in his jeans. Dean reached down to adjust himself but stopped short when Alexa stood back up and turned around to face him again.

Dean froze, unable to move when she grinned at him like that, wicked and beautiful.  She was holding a bag in her hands, and Dean didn't know what was in there but he desperately wanted to as she strolled back across the ring towards him. Then, once Alexa was within a couple of feet of him, she upended the bag. A hail of shining, tinkling metal came pouring out. It was a testament to just how little blood was in Dean's brain that his first thought was simply - _dimes_? Then Dean’s head caught up and he felt a thrilled chill go through him.

Those definitely were not dimes.

Alexa drug her boots through the thumbtacks, spreading them out better as Dean struggled to his feet. He had to use his hands to brace himself, although she noticed that he pushed up off of his knee instead of the floor. His body kept swaying towards her, even though he made a show of putting his hands up like he thought that she would lock up with him.

“I'm not gonna go down easy.” Dean's mouth was bloody as he grinned.

Alexa tossed the bag to the side, rolled her eyes. “That's a bad lie. Everyone knows how easy you are.”

When she swept his legs and Dean crashed down onto the thumbtacks he thought that he felt his soul leave his body for a split second.

Dean heard someone yell, only dimly awareness that it was him even as the pain lanced through him. It was too much, it hurt too good. He jack knifed trying to get away from it but there was no escaping, and his vision nearly whited out as cock leaked in his jeans. But that was far away. Dean never needed to come again of he could just stay on that mat with all the little piercing points that dug into his back and shoulder, made him cry out again when he rolled onto his side and more of the loose thumbtacks found their homes in the side of his arm.

Everything was hazy in his head except for the way that the hurt made it pure and Dean didn't know where Alexa was until she was standing right in front of him. Nudging the toe of her boot against the side of his face, the smooth curve of it pressed against where his lip was split and raw, and Dean was suddenly disappointed that he hadn't thought to bring his old dog collar along.

Alexa took a step back, started to turn away, and Dean thought that she was going to go and hop out of the ring to grab another kendo stick. He shivered at the thought, of the way he knew that she would be able to tune him up,  merciless smacks across the constellation of thumbtacks in his skin. But then Alexa paused. Turned back towards him.

There was a wet smear on the toe of her boot, where the blood that had dripped from Dean's mouth looked black as pitch against the dark material. Alexa didn't have to say anything at all. She merely waited, patient, and it didn't take long until the flicker of realization in Dean's eyes told her that he had put it together.

  
It took a little bit longer for Dean to get it together enough to make all of his limbs work in tandem. Or, at least well enough so that he could roll over onto his hands and knees. Then Dean ducked his head, the thumbtacks across his shoulder blades shining as he leaned forward to lick his blood off of her boot.


End file.
